


She Could Lift Me

by leporidae



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Gen, rarepairsonice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:45:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9347615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: Sometimes crushes just... happen.(But really, who wouldn't crush on Mila.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am so bad at titles, someone help me.
> 
> Second entry for the rarepairsonice event, this one for the theme "high school." I went with a generic cheesy high school AU with generic cheesy high school crushes, nothing super deep but it was fun to write. I do love the potential for this ship, though, and I hope we get to see the girls skating in season 2.

It wasn't romantic like the movies. The two didn't bump into each other in the hallway and frantically move to gather their belongings. Their hands didn't brush as they reached for the same book and send nervous tremors through their very souls, and the world didn't stop the moment they gazed into each other's eyes for a moment too long. 

No, Sara Crispino first spoke to Mila Babicheva during a perfectly normal encounter in the girl's restroom. The Russian exchange student was applying some sort of ointment to her arm, and when Sara peered closer she could see a dark purple bruise mottling her skin. 

"Sorry for staring, but that looks painful," Sara had remarked. "What happened?" 

Mila had shrugged. "Got kicked during wrestling practice." 

"Wrestling sounds scary," Sara had said.  

"Isn't being a member of the student council just as scary?" Mila had shot back. 

Sara hadn't even realized that exchange students paid attention to who held what positions in student government, since they were only going to attend their school for a year anyway. Most of them probably _didn't_ pay attention. Why did Mila remember that about her? 

Sara had shrugged. "I suppose it's a matter of perspective." 

Mila had shrugged, and that had been it, one tiny, innocuous interaction. 

The beginning of Sara's crush.

* * *

"I think I might like someone," Sara remarks casually, tossing her backpack off onto the sofa and flopping down next to it. 

Her brother's temper, predictably, flares in an instant. "Who is it?" Michele demands. "Is it that guy who's been smiling at you on the tennis team? He's really out of line - I keep glaring at him, but he refuses to take the hint. I should give him a piece of my mind." 

"Someone's been smiling at me?" Sara asks innocently, though of course she's aware of that fact. As she has learned over the years, it placates her brother to feign ignorance when it comes to boys' advances. "I hadn't even noticed." 

Michele grunts. "If not him, then who?" 

A coy smile curls her lips. "Not a tennis player. A wrestler." 

"Someone on the wrestling team?!" And now Michele is practically shouting again. "Who is it? Nobody's good enough for you! I'll kill him with my bare hands if he so much as touches you!" 

"Not him," Sara corrects. "Her." 

"Not - oh." 

A silence stretches out between them. From practically the time they were born, Sara and Michele have always shared every thought with each other, and Sara wants this revelation to be no different. But she's aware that the sudden realization of her bisexuality might be too much for her straight-laced brother to handle. 

"You like a  _girl_  on the wrestling team?" Michele clarifies cautiously. 

Sara nods. 

"...She better be fucking  _amazing_  if you like her. I still have high standards for you either way," Michele huffs. "Who is it?" 

Sara smiles. It seems her brother is taking this in stride after all. For all his outward fierceness when it comes to protecting his sister, Michele always had her best interest in mind. Of course he wouldn't judge her for something like this; as much as he tries to turn her away from romance for her own safety, he's supportive enough to not ever _truly_ get in her way if she's serious about something. 

"Mila Babicheva." 

"The exchange student?" 

"Mmhmm." 

Michele thinks for a long moment. “Want me to ask her out for you?”

Sara chuckles, nudging her brother playfully. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Mickey. I can take care of myself.”

The boy doesn’t seem convinced, his lip curling into a pout. “She better treat you right,” he grumbles finally, turning away from Sara and crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

Sara thinks it’s adorable.

* * *

_I can take care of myself,_ Sara had proclaimed proudly to her brother the day prior, puffing up her chest like a prideful owl as she prepared to seize the day - and the source of her affections. And yet now, though her words had dripped with bravado, her palms are clammy at the mere _thought_ of asking the hot exchange student out on a date.

And is she ever hot. Sara has been glancing surreptitiously into the gym for the last hour, pretending to run laps herself but truly just sneaking glances at Mila during practice, the way the redhead can toss aside much larger boys with no effort whatsoever, sweat glistening off her unfairly well-defined muscles all the while.

The girls are jealous of her, the boys mildly afraid of her. Sara is just in awe of her. In awe, and in desperate need to get to know her better.

And more… up close. The closer the better.

As Sara considers spraying herself with a stream of water from the nearest water fountain to chase away aberrant thoughts of _Mila_ and _closeness,_ the young woman herself emerges from the gym, toweling off her forehead and neck with one hand and stretching the other languidly behind her back. She doesn’t seem to have noticed Sara at all.

_Focus. You’re on the student council, you’ve debated with annoying boys and adults four times your age with no problems. She’s just a girl at your school. She’s your peer. She’s probably very nice. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ve definitely got this. You know you’re very well-spoken. Show off your natural charms._

The result of this mental pep talk is Sara blurting out, “You looked cool in there.”

Mila turns her focus to Sara and raises an eyebrow. “In practice?”

“Yeah,” Sara admits, because as long as she’s digging herself into a hole, she might as well go all the way.

Mila grins, and it might be fatal, because Sara’s sure her heart rate has never accelerated this quickly before. “Were you spying on me?” She tosses the towel across her shoulder and crosses her arms in mock offense, though her mischievous expression says otherwise.

“I was watching your practice,” Sara says defensively, which might as well be a definitive _yes, I was._ “Some of it, anyway. I don’t know that much about wrestling,” she admits. “But I thought you… looked cool.”

“Maybe I could teach you about it?” Mila inquires slyly in an accent that makes Sara’s stomach do a surprisingly-not-unpleasant somersault.  “Over coffee, or something – if you’re free later.”

“I’m free now,” Sara says a bit too hastily. She takes a breath. “I mean, if – if you’re free.”

Mila takes a step forward, and before Sara can process what she’s doing, Mila has taken her hand in her own and brought her knuckles to her lips in a kiss. “So it’s a date, then, Sara Crispino?”

Sara prays she doesn’t faint on the spot. “Absolutely.”

As Mila walks away towards the showers, it occurs to Sara that she’d never actually told the other girl her name. _So s_ _he_ had _thought of me before after all._ The thought makes her giddy, and Sara hugs herself with both arms, hardly wanting to believe it.

_I can't wait to brag to Mickey later._


End file.
